Lone Star Slayer: LA
by ShadowsOnTheMoon
Summary: On her visit to Angel Investigations in LA, Lex, the new Slayer, is going to find more than she was looking for - and maybe more than she can handle. Will she be prepared for what's to come? Can she give up everything in order to be the person the world needs her to be? [Sequel to 'Lone Star Slayer: Texas'.]
1. Vampire

By the time I arrive at San Antonio airport I've spent the best part of three weeks training with Hunter. I've mostly come to terms with the existence of the supernatural and the fact that I'm the Slayer, although sometimes I wake up and it takes a few minutes for everything to catch up to me. Once I've gone through security I sit down in the waiting area and pull out my notebook. The first couple of pages are filled with information like my flight time and the address of Angel Investigations, which I flick past until I reach the pages I'm looking for.

Hunter lent me some of the Watcher's diaries, which have information about previous Slayers. He didn't have many on him, but they were the most recent – the ones about Buffy. I started taking notes from them; at first it was idle curiosity, but it became an obsession. I'd spend hours each afternoon huddled in my bed, reading and re-reading the diaries, writing down any information I could find. There wasn't much by way of personal information about her. Giles, her watcher, was all business – he wrote down details about the demons she faced, and how she overcame them, but that was about it. There wasn't anything about her friends, her life, anything that would help me understand the former Slayer. Maybe that was a good thing. This way I knew what she was like as a Slayer, but not as a person. It meant that the dull ache in my heart wouldn't be anything more than that.

The entries stop suddenly. Giles stops writing halfway through an entry, promising to write again after the impromptu Scooby meeting is over. Apparently Buffy's group were called the Scoobies, which I think is kind of cute. I asked Hunter about the entry, and he says it was written a couple days before Buffy died. They were fighting a hellgod named Glory, some terrifying entity from a hell dimension. She was after the Key, which was in human form – Dawn, Buffy's 'sister'. She'd already attacked them a few times, and, from what I can tell, she had the upper hand. In her search for the Key she attacked some girl called Tara, who I think was a friend of the Slayer, and made her insane. Giles takes time out from listing details to say that he's really worried, and he's not sure the Slayer can win this time.

I wonder what happened to all of them. Is Tara still insane? Is Giles still in Sunnydale? How did Buffy defeat the hellgod? I didn't think to ask Hunter any of this, so I'll have to wait until I get to LA to find out. I try not to think about what will happen once I get back from LA. What if everything changes?

During the flight I distract myself by listening to music, so I'm reasonably relaxed when the plane lands. But the second I set foot in the airport all my questions come rushing back and I can't bear to stand still. The flight got in about ten minutes early, so Cordelia doesn't appear to be there. I do a lap of the waiting area and don't see anyone who looks like her (Hunter showed me a picture of her so I'd know what to look for), so I keep walking. Anything to keep my mind on something else.

There's a tap on my shoulder, and instincts kick in. I have the person on the ground before logic takes over and I realise what I've done.

Embarrassed, I stand up and offer my hand to the girl sprawled at my feet.

"Cordelia?" I ask.

She grunts, allowing me to help her to her feet, and then she dusts off her stylish red pants. "You're the new Slayer, I presume."

"Yeah." I fiddle with the straps of my bag. "I'm Lex. It's – it's nice to meet you."

"Uh-huh," she says, rubbing her neck. I did throw her to the ground pretty hard. "Can I help with anything?"

She looks at my bag, but I hoist it higher over my shoulder and smile. "No thanks. I got it."

"Right, you've got Slayer strength and all," she says.

We start walking towards the exit, and I struggle to come up with something to talk about. I feel incredibly intimidated. I've only been the Slayer for three weeks, but this girl has been battling demons for over three years. She grew up in Sunnydale, right on the Hellmouth. And there's some deal now where apparently she gets visions from some higher power, and then she and Angel and the team gear up and head out to fight evil. And here I am, barely able to wield a stake.

"So you knew the old Slayer?" I ask as we head down to the carpark.

"Yeah," she says, unlocking her car. "We went to high school together. And I gotta say, you're a lot taller than she was."

"Good to know," I say, getting into the car.

* * *

Once she gets onto the main road Cordelia gets chatty. I struggle to keep up. She talks about Angel, and some people called Wes, Fred, and Gunn, who seem to be the other people in the team. She asks about what it's like in Texas, what my home life is like, what I did when I found out I was the Slayer. I answer as best I can, but her interest unnerves me a little. Most Slayers before Buffy kept to themselves a lot, and didn't tell anyone their secret identity. I get that, and it feels weird that there all these people in California who know about me. Finally Cordelia seems to run out of things to talk about, and we listen to the radio for the rest of the drive without saying a word. When she pulls up outside a hotel, I'm suitably impressed.

"This is where you work?" I ask as we get out of the car.

"Yeah." She glances back at me as she starts walking up the front steps. "It's not perfect, but it's way better than when we were working out of my apartment. Dennis is a lot happier about it too."

"Dennis?"

"My ghost."

"Oh." I try to act like this is a perfectly natural thing to say as I follow her up the stairs.

She opens the door and I step into the hotel, and for a moment I can't think of a single thing to say. The room we're standing in – the lobby – is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. But when I try to figure out which parts of it are actually impressive, I can't. It's just that the weapons stored in strategic places around the room, the front counter with stacks of paperwork, all of it adds up to create an atmosphere of professional excitement that leaves me speechless. This is where they fight evil.

The moment the door closes behind us someone dashes across the room. I only catch a glimpse of brunette hair before she's shot up the stairs and out of sight, and then a well-dressed man steps out from behind the counter.

"Cordelia, I -" he says sternly, and then he catches sight of me. "Oh."

"Wesley, meet Lex, the new Slayer."

I step forward and shake his hand. He looks flustered, and from the way his hand is shaking I get the feeling that he's actually scared of me. Maybe now that I'm a Slayer I'm somehow intimidating. Then I remember that Wesley used to be a Watcher – why would he be scared of Slayers? He used to be in charge of training one.

"Wesley Windham-Pryce, at your service," he says to me.

"Nice to meet you."

"Your room's upstairs," Cordelia says. "Let me show you."

"Can you check on Fred while you're up there?" Wesley asks, returning to the counter.

"Sure."

Cordelia leads me up the stairs and down a hall. The hall doesn't look quite as well maintained as the lobby, but it feels more welcoming, more like home. I wonder if anyone actually stays here, or if the hotel feel is just a façade.

"Was that Fred?" I ask. "The girl who ran out of the room when we came in?"

"Oh, yeah," Cordelia says as we stop outside a plan brown door. "Don't mind her, she's just… you know, recovering from years of torment in a demon dimension."

"She – what?" I've heard a lot of strange things since I became the Slayer, but this has to be one of the weirdest. "A demon dimension?"

Cordelia raises her eyebrows. "Hunter really didn't tell you much, did he?"

I shake my head.

"Well, come down to the lobby once you're all settled in here and we can fill you in on everything," she says.

Once I'm alone in my room I sit down on the bed and flip through my notebook again. There are a couple of notes about Cordelia and Wesley, because they were both in Sunnydale, but there's nothing on Fred or Gunn, and very little on Angel. No better informed, I tuck my bag under my bed and go downstairs.

Cordelia and Wesley are sitting on a couch; she's idly reading a celebrity magazine, and he's perusing a thick book with pictures of demons in it. They look up when I walk in.

"Have you settled in okay?" Cordelia asks, setting her magazine down on a table in front of her.

"Sure," I reply, sitting down in a chair opposite them. "I won't be here that long, so it wasn't exactly hard."

Wesley has only briefly looked up, and now he's immersed in his book again. He keeps re-reading a rather long passage next to a picture of a particularly nasty-looking demon.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Oh," he says, still not looking up, "I'm researching a certain breed of demon which often inhabits sewers or caves. See these long tentacle-looking things? They're actually used to -"

"Wesley," Cordelia interrupts, "I don't think she wants to hear about the tentacles. I sure don't."

"Ah, yes, right." He turns the page so I can't see the picture of the demon's tentacles. "In any case, I'm looking into this because Gunn – our other associate – is involved in tracking one of these demons. Speaking of which, he should be due to check in soon. Cordelia, will you keep an eye on the phone?"

"Do it yourself," she says good-naturedly. Then she turns to me. "So Lex -"

Her next words are lost in an almighty crash. The front doors of the hotel have flung open and two people have tumbled in. One of them goes flying down the stairs, and I see that the other, now standing just inside the door, isn't actually human. It's some kind of demon – nothing I've come across in the basic demonology Hunter gave me before he left – with dark blue skin, horns instead of ears, and wearing the most atrociously off-orange jacket I've ever seen. The guy at the foot of the stairs jumps to his feet, and I realise he's not a man either. He's a vampire.

Cordelia is shouting something, but her words are blurring together. Wesley is behind the counter; I think he's hiding until he reappears holding a crossbow. I watch him shoot two off-target arrows before I intervene, letting instinct take over.

The vampire and the demon are fighting again. The demon seems more dangerous – I haven't dealt with a demon before, but I know I can take a vampire – so I make it my top priority. I sprint across the lobby, dash up the stairs, and crash into the demon. He hardly moves, but the vampire backs up. I land a roundhouse kick to the vampire's stomach and watch him go flying, and then I start on the demon. He's strong, slow-moving but almost indestructible. My fists slam into its face, again and again, and he hardly even blinks. Then he lifts his hand and with a seemingly gentle shove knocks me down. I hit the ground hard, and almost at once everything starts aching. So maybe he wasn't that gentle.

My leg shoots out, hitting him behind the knees, and a sharp jerk sends him toppling him forwards. He lands sprawled across my legs, and for a moment we struggle for a power, rolling over and over each other. I end up on top, my knee digging into his chest and my hands around his throat. I'm not entirely sure he breathes, and if so there's no guarantee its respiratory system will have anything to do with the throat, but it seems like the logical thing to do anyway. The demon starts to go limp, but then he surprises me with a burst of energy, attempting to throw me off. My hands seem to react of their own accord, snapping his neck. Now he really goes limp.

All of this has taken less than a minute. During that time the vampire has only just managed to get to his feet, and now he's coming towards me. Time's moving slow, all background noise has faded to a dull murmur, and I'm filled with a sense of purpose. Just like with that first vampire, I know that my only duty is to slay. Kill. Dust. That's all that matters now. It's who I am and what I do.

I step back as the vampire approaches, resting my weight on my back leg so I'm ready to spring forwards. I do this a second before he reaches me, launching myself at him feet-first. I hit him square in the chest and he lands on his back. My momentum carries me over him and I land in a crouch on the other side. By the time I turn around he's on his feet again, and in a second his hands are around my throat. I grab his arms and spin him around, pushing him up against the wall. His face is contorted, disfigured – his natural vampiric face. My arm is across his throat, pinning him against the wall. There's something in his eyes, something beneath the simple bloodlust of the vampire, but I don't let it stop me. I pull out a stake, and lift it up.

Suddenly there's blinding pain shooting through my arm. The stake falls from my hand and I collapse on the ground, clutching my arm. I'm unable to suppress a sharp cry of pain, which turns to a gasp as the vampire pins me to the ground. Why aren't Wesley and Cordelia helping? Are they really going to let this vampire kill me? Oh god, what if this is a trap? I'm suddenly certain that I'm going to die.

Wesley and Cordelia are still shouting, and I catch a glimpse of someone up in the hall above – Fred, I presume. She looks scared, but not even half as scared as I feel. The vampire leans in, and I close my eyes, waiting for him to bite me. There's a pause. I open my eyes. His face is human now, no fangs or lumps or anything. And the look in his eyes is more human too – it's almost gentle. It catches me off-guard, and in that second I'm sure I'm dead.

I'm still waiting for the death blow when the vampire gets off me, tosses the stake to the side, and offers me his hand. Stunned, I refuse, but I get to my feet, keeping an eye on him the whole time. Cordelia rushes to my side, seemingly torn between concern and consternation.

"Lex," she says, glancing at the vampire. "Meet Angel."

* * *

While I sit on the couch, Wesley drags the body of the demon outside and Angel leans against the counter, watching from a distance as Cordelia tends to my wound. There's an arrow embedded in my right arm. Wesley admitted to shooting it, and apologised for it. It was the only way he could stop me from staking Angel.

"I'm sorry," I say again to the vampire, and he gives me half a smile. "I didn't mean – I didn't know. I would have never -"

"I know," he says, pushing himself off the counter and walking towards me. "Now, this is probably gonna hurt a bit."

Before I have time to figure out what he's talking about, he grabs the arrow, snaps off the tip, and then yanks it out of my arm. The pain is excruciating.

"Oh god," I groan, watching as Angel tosses both parts of the arrow in the trash. Cordelia peels my hands off the wound and starts cleaning and dressing it.

"Believe it or not, this actually happens pretty often around here," she tells me.

"Maybe you should ditch the crossbow then."

"It's not always a crossbow," she goes on, trying to keep me distracted I guess. "Stakes, guns, mystical weapons. We've seen it all."

"Sounds thrilling."

She keeps up the chatter until the wound is cleaned and bandaged.

"We could take you to the hospital if you want," she offers, packing away her first aid supplies.

"I'm fine," I assure her. "Hunter told me that part of the Slayer package is advanced healing. I'd kinda like to test that out."

"You should be fine," she says. "This one time Buffy -"

She cuts herself off and glances at Angel.

"I'm okay," he says. "Really. You can say her name."

She doesn't continue her story.

"I have a question," I say, tenderly feeling the wounded area through the bandage to see if it hurts. It does.

"What?" Angel asks.

"Why the hell did no one tell me you were a vampire?"


	2. Trouble

The screaming wakes me up.

I take a few seconds to regain consciousness, and then a few more to make any kind of sense of what's happening. Then I sit bolt upright, heart racing. Screaming?

I spring from my bed and slide my feet into my slippers. As I dash down the hall I remember the last time I woke up to a noise like this. It was a couple years ago, when we used to keep goats on the ranch. One of the smaller ones had gotten out and wandered off, and a stray dog had found it. Oh god, the noise. When we'd found it, there wasn't much left besides some blood and fur. I'd felt sick to my stomach, and long after we'd cleaned up the mess and stopped keeping goats the screaming kept me awake at night.

It's coming from Cordelia's room. By the time I get there the door is wide open. Angel is already there, perched on the end of her bed; Cordelia is sprawled on her bed, convulsing, shutting her eyes against the pain as screams tear out of her throat.

"What's going on?" I ask, glancing wildly at Angel.

"Vision." He doesn't look at me, just reaches forward, grabs Cordelia's hand, and squeezes it.

Before I even have time to figure out how to try to help, it's over. Cordelia opens her eyes, looking pale and tired, and collapses into Angel's embrace.

"Get her some water," he instructs me.

When I get back she looks a little better. She's sitting up by herself, rubbing her forehead and breathing heavily. I hand her the glass of water and she smiles slightly at me as she takes it.

A few minutes pass in silence. Cordelia slowly regains her color, and after she takes a couple painkillers she manages to talk again. She rattles off an address while Angel nods.

"Vampire nest," she explains. "More like a cult, I guess. There's going to be some kind of human sacrifice. Soon, I think. Might even be happening now."

"I'll call Wes." Angel looks at me. "Do you want to come?"

I hesitate. As a Slayer I feel like I should say yes, but as a teenage girl all my instincts are screaming no.

"Shouldn't I stay here with Cordelia?" I ask. She still looks weak.

"I'll be fine." She smiles, although I can see the pain behind it. "You guys go and be heroes."

Out of excuses, I agree. I quickly go up to my room and get dressed, and within five minutes Angel and I are speeding down the highway. Wes is going to meet us there, although chances are we'll get there first since his apartment is a fair way away. Angel doesn't seem to be one for smalltalk, but the silence hanging over us makes me feel uncomfortable.

"Vampire nest, huh," I try.

He looks over at me. "Yeah."

"Don't vampires usually hunt alone?"

"Usually, yeah," he says, changing lanes without checking. Somebody honks their horn and Angel rolls his eyes. "But sometimes they come together to make it easier. In that case it's rarely true friendship; it's more likely to be many vampires working for one more powerful one."

"Some vampires have minions?" I ask.

"Yeah," Angel says with a chuckle. "I guess you could call it that."

It takes us about ten minutes to get there. During that time I fiddle with my stake. I've nicknamed it Sharpie, which made me question my sanity. How did I go from being a normal teenage girl who likes horseback riding to the kind of girl who goes around nicknaming sharp pieces of wood? Every time I think about how much things have changed I feel almost motion-sick, like I'm stuck on a rollercoaster and I can't get off. And like a rollercoaster, this has the potential to be fun – or deadly.

We pull up outside the house and Angel turns the engine off. He sits there for a minute or so, waiting to see if Wes turns up I suppose, before he gets out of the car.

"Let's go," he says, leading the way.

I get out and trot after him, gripping my stake so hard I think I'm going to give myself splinters. When we get to the door he doesn't even hesitate, just kicks it open and strides right in. I follow, taking a moment to laugh at how crazy my life has become.

The laughter stops the second I walk in the door. Angel has surprised the vampires, who appear to be right in the middle of a meal. I watch as he dusts two at once with stakes he keeps up his sleeves, and then I dive into the fray. Things seem to move slowly. I can see every detail, every fang and stake and speck of blood.

The vampire nearest me hasn't noticed I'm here yet; he's too busy staring at Angel with a look of dumb horror. I walk up to him, stake him in the back, and watch his dust fall to the ground. I feel a little uneasy about this – it feels too cowardly – but then their victim, a teenage boy, moans, and I look over to see blood still trickling down his neck. All my uneasiness melts away. Vampires are evil. I kill them. End of story.

The next vampire is ready for me, so we have a brief scuffle before I stake him. I look over to see Angel landing a roundhouse kick to a vampire while two others advance on him. As I go to his aid, something slams into me and I crash to the ground. There are two more vampires hovering over me. Where did they come from? There had been less than ten vamps in here, I was sure, and Angel and I must have killed at least that many now. Had they called for backup?

I jump to my feet, back up a few paces, and then launch myself at them. I crash into the first one, who stumbles into the second, and as I land I spin around and stake the one closest to me. The other one starts running, but I take aim, pull my arm back, and throw the stake like a spear. It shoots through him, and through the dust this creates I see the stake keep flying towards the other exit. I see it headed for the wall, about to embed itself in the wood, and then something happens.

There's someone standing there. She's dressed all in black, her dark hair held in a careless ponytail. The stake is speeding towards her, and there's no way she can move in time.

I start to scream _Look out_, but suddenly her hand shoots out and she catches the stake. It looks effortless. She tosses me a smile, and then stakes the vampire who's running towards her.

The tides turn then. Even though Wesley doesn't show up, Angel and I can take care of most of the vampires. And with this newcomer, who seems to be on our side, the fight is over in a few minutes.

I lean against the wall, panting. It had been short, but the fight had still been tiring. Angel checks the boy, who's still alive, and then calls for an ambulance. Once he's finished assuring the boy that he'll be okay and that help is on the way, he walks over to me.

"Good job, Lex," he says, patting some of the dust off his jacket. "We should get going before -"

The stranger approaches us. Angel stares at her. I clear my throat.

Nobody speaks for a long time.

Then finally Angel says one word.

"Faith."

* * *

When we get back to the apartment, Cordelia is sitting in the lobby. She looks up as we enter, and then she raises her eyebrows as she sees who's behind us.

"What is _she_ doing here?" she asks Angel pointedly.

Before he can answer, Wesley appears from behind the counter, his nose in a book.

"I'm terribly sorry I didn't get there in time," he says, not looking up. "There was -"

He looks up. He sees Faith. He turns pale, and the book falls from his grasp.

"Wesley," Angel says, stepping forward. "It's okay. She's here to help."

"Oh." Wesley adjusts his glasses. "I see."

Faith shuffles her feet. She looks like she's about to say something, but no words seem sufficient to apologise for what she did. I don't know the full story, but I've heard a bit about Faith. How she was a Slayer in Sunnydale, but then she went rogue and Buffy had to stab her. She'd ended up in LA after a long coma, and she'd wreaked havoc here. There had been blood, fights, screaming. I didn't know the details, but it sounded bad. I carefully stand a little bit away from her. I may be a Slayer too, but she is one intimidating woman.

Without another word, Wesley leaves. A long silence ensues.

"Faith has some news," Angel says, going over and sitting next to Cordelia.

I walk over and sit beside them, but Faith doesn't move.

"It's okay." Angel gestures to the seat next to him. "I trust you."

Cautiously she sits down, as far away from him as she can be without being on the floor. She stares at her scuffed shoes and her jacket with fraying edges, and she frowns.

"Listen, I -"

"Don't." Angel rests a hand on her shoulder. "It's over. It's done. Let's move on."

"Redemption isn't that easy," Faith says. "You should know that."

They share a long look.

"Sappy moment over." Faith shifts in her seat so she's facing all of us. "Okay. So, the deal is this. There's trouble."

"You mean aside from you?" Cordelia asks.

"Can't say I don't deserve that," Faith says easily. "But no, it ain't me. Not this time."

"Are you sure? Because breaking out of prison -"

"She broke out of prison?" I interject.

"Yeah," Angel admits.

Faith turns to me. Then she looks at the others.

"Who's the little bit, by the way?"

"That's Lex," Angel says. "She's the new Slayer."

"Well all right," Faith says, looking at me appreciatively. "Welcome to the team."

"Thanks."

"So this trouble -" Faith starts saying, and then all the color goes from her face as the realisation hits her. "Wait. New Slayer. That only happens when the old Slayer kicks it. And seeing as I'm still here…"

Angel bows his head, unable to meet her eyes.

"When?" Faith asks.

"A little over a month ago," Angel replies. "She was – it was a hellgod. Mystic portal. Demon energy."

"I'm sorry."

I get the feeling that Faith needs more time to deal with this. She and Buffy had a complicated relationship, but I think there was some real affection deep down. But there's no time to dwell on these things. Faith lets a respectful amount of time pass and then she continues.

"So this trouble." She takes a deep breath. "I don't know specifics. My visions aren't quite as clear as yours, Cordy. But I know enough to know that something big is going down in Sunnydale. Something apocalypse big."

"What does that mean?" I ask. I've only been the Slayer for a few weeks. I'm barely able to handle a nest of vampires; I'm not ready to deal with an apocalypse.

"It means," Faith says, "that you and I are gonna take a little trip to Sunnydale."

* * *

That night I'm lying awake in my bed when there's a knock on the door.

"Come in," I say, sitting up and turning on a lamp.

Faith looks tired, her face drawn and pale in the lamplight. She sits down on the end of my bed, and I'm seized by the sudden desire to hug her. If she didn't kill me for it, maybe it would make her feel better. And she really looks like she needs to feel better.

"Hey Peach," she says.

I blink. "My name -"

"I know." She glances at the nightgown I'm wearing. "But it's a pretty color. And the pretty name suits you."

"It's coral," I say softly. "The color. It's not peach, it's coral."

"Whatever you say, Peach," she says, and for some reason it makes me smile.

"Is it really going to be as bad as you say it is?" I ask. The thought of an apocalypse terrifies me. Even the others, who have all lived through several battles this big, seem nervous.

She sighs. "I don't know. It could be. Or it might not be as bad as it seems. But the only way to find out is to get there and see for ourselves."

"I can't just get up and go to Sunnydale," I protest. "I have a life back home in Texas. I have school, friends, a family. I -"

"What you have," Faith interrupts, "is a calling. A duty. A destiny. And I know it sucks right now, but it's not all bad. You've got the super-strength thing going for you. And you had some pretty fine moves back there at the nest. You're gonna be okay, kid."

"I don't have a choice, do I?" I ask. "About going to Sunnydale. I have to."

She smiles. "There's always a choice, Peach. You just gotta hope you make the right one."

I lie awake for hours after she's gone. And eventually, I make my choice.


End file.
